Life on the Edge
by molly2012
Summary: Monique Lisson turns up in DC and needs the team's help. Whilst staying with Ziva, she can't help but notice the attraction between her old friend and Gibbs. Can she help give Ziva a push in the right direction? Ziva/Monique friendship, first time Zibbs, and a bit of serious case stuff thrown in. Reviews always welcome :)).
1. Chapter 1

_This originally started life as two separate stories - a first time Zibbs (just for the fun of it) and a case fic with Monique. The writers never revealed exactly what she was mixed up in at the end of 'The Missionary Position', so this is partly my take on what that could have been. I merged it with the Zibbs story when, as one of Ziva's closest friends, Monique decided she wanted to play matchmaker :). _

_As always, hope you enjoy! Reviews always welcome :)_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. As usual. **  
_

* * *

Ziva pounded along the path, her breath beginning to come harder now, her heart thudding. It was still early on a frosty morning, and she had the park almost to herself. The cold air was sharp against her warm face as she pulled up to check her time. _Not bad. _And she was over halfway round her route. She pulled her hat further down over her ears and was about to set off again when she felt her cell phone vibrate in the pocket of her hoodie. She swore under her breath and pulled it out. She did not recognise the number on the caller display and frowned as she pressed 'accept'.

'Ziva David'.

'Ziva. Monique'.

Ziva's frown disappeared as she recognised the voice of her old friend and mentor. After she had left Monique in Colombia six months ago, she had doubted whether she would ever see her again. Monique had been operating freelance after retiring from Interpol, sometimes working for official agencies, sometimes not. Ziva guessed that she often played both sides. In such a dangerous game Colombia, it seemed, had not been kind to her. She realised that this was not likely to be a social call.

'Monique. So you are still alive'.

She heard Monique's familiar, throaty laugh, and could not help smiling herself.

'What a way to greet an old friend. How are you?'

'Fine. And you?'

'Fine. Where are you?'

Ziva's brow wrinkled at the question. Her mentor was in Colombia. _So why is she asking….? _

'Where are you, Monique?'

'Washington'.

Ziva froze. She was not sure whether she wanted to know the answers to all the questions that were suddenly buzzing round in her head. She decided to start with the simplest.

'Why, Monique?'

There was silence for a few seconds before Monique answered.

'I need your help, Ziva'.

Ziva did not hesitate.

'What can I do?'

'We should talk. Not on the phone'.

'Then where are you? I will come and meet you'.

A pause. 'No need. I am at your apartment'.

Ziva sighed. She did not bother to ask how Monique knew her address. Or whether she had let herself in and made herself at home. The older woman had not been her mentor for nothing.

'I will be as quick as I can. Help yourself to whatever you want in the kitchen'.

She ended the call, and shoved the phone back in her pocket. She was worried. Monique often operated alone, and she was a capable agent who was used to looking out for herself. In that respect, they were very much alike. It was not like her to ask for help. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Ziva began to run again.

* * *

Monique was apparently taking no chances. When Ziva tried to enter her apartment she found it locked from the inside, the key still firmly in place. Still panting from her fast run home, she banged loudly on the door.

'Monique?'

After a minute of silence, she heard the key turn and the door opened slightly. She pushed it further open and stepped into her living room, shutting the door carefully behind her. She stood for a moment to catch her breath, hands on hips, her eyebrows raised in indignation at the tall, dark haired woman now standing by the window.

Monique caught her expression and smiled, her brown eyes softening.

'You can never be too careful, Ziva'.

'So you locked me out of my own apartment?'

'Of course. Until I was sure it was you'.

Ziva shook her head, smiling. Monique never changed. It was probably why she was still alive.

'I would give you a hug, but….' She gestured to her running clothes, and Monique laughed.

'I will let you shower. We can talk after. Can I make you some coffee?'

Ziva nodded, unable to decide whether to be amused or annoyed at being offered her own coffee, in her own apartment. She decided on neither, and headed towards the bathroom instead. 'I take it you know where everything is. I will not be long'.

She showered and changed quickly, still worried but relieved to see Monique in one piece. As she walked back through to the kitchen, rubbing her hair with a towel, she found herself wondering how long she had known her mentor. Ten years, twelve? Long enough to be comfortable with each other and to dispense with the small talk, anyway.

'I should ring NCIS and let them know I will be late'.

Monique handed her a steaming mug. 'Already done. Special Agent Gibbs is on his way here'.

Ziva almost choked on her coffee. 'You rang Gibbs?'

Monique nodded, smiling. 'I do not know how you concentrate, Ziva. Even his voice is….good looking'.

Ziva did not answer. She suspected that, somehow, Monique already knew about the lapses of concentration that occasionally occurred when Gibbs was around.

Monique's expression became serious. 'I called him because I need his help too, Ziva. And also because I have some information for him. Information that I would rather not be associated with'. She paused to take a sip of her coffee. 'You trust him. That is good enough for me'.

Ziva felt the sinking feeling in her stomach return. Things must be bad if Monique had thought it necessary to involve Gibbs as well. Not to mention the flak she would take herself if this information turned out to be….problematical.

Monique smiled again. 'I would not worry, Ziva. I think Agent Gibbs has a….what do they call it? A soft spot. I think he only agreed to come as a favour to you'.

Ziva raised her eyebrows. She had forgotten how annoying it could be when Monique seemed to read her mind. It was what made them such a good team in the field, but when it came to personal matters, it could be a pain in the ass. She was just about to say so when her cell phone rang.

'Ziva. You gonna let me in?'

She walked to the window that looked down over the entrance to the block, and saw Gibbs standing on the sidewalk. Pressing the buzzer that opened the entry door, she ended the call and went to open her front door. Gibbs appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later. He did not look happy.

'This better be good, Lisson'.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone for reading / following! Hopefully this chapter will answer a few questions...Enjoy :). _

* * *

'How much do you know about CIA operations in Colombia, Agent Gibbs?'

Monique had settled herself on the sofa, Gibbs on the chair next to the small table. Ziva was leaning against the door leading to the kitchen, watching them both. She suddenly felt too jumpy, too nervous to sit. Gibbs took a long swallow of his coffee before replying.

'What makes you think NCIS is read in on CIA operations?'

Monique smiled. 'I was not talking about official channels, Agent Gibbs. I was asking what you know, unofficially. Pillow talk'.

Ziva shot her a sharp look, but Gibbs merely smirked.

'Doc Ryan didn't tell me much of anything'. He paused. 'Using medical outreach programs to gather DNA, that the kind of thing you're talking about?'

Ziva looked at him in surprise. Their search for Chaplain Wade six months ago had brought the so-called charity Courage Mission International to their attention. She mentally gave herself a headslap. She should have suspected where the information had come from.

Monique nodded slowly, and reached forward to put her mug down on the coffee table. She gave both Gibbs and Ziva a long, searching look before speaking.

'Colombia was not the first country I lived in after retiring from Interpol. Freelance work takes you wherever you are needed. I already had a reputation as a reliable….agent….before I went to Colombia'.

'The intelligence equivalent of a mercenary'.

Monique looked sharply at Gibbs, but did not contradict him.

'I was asked by the Colombian government to do some work for them, in connection with their own fight against the drug cartels. Undercover work. It was not easy. And the cartels have their own sources in the intelligence network'.

She paused, and reached for her coffee again.

'At the same time, the CIA was conducting operations in Colombia. Courage Mission International was just one of those. The Colombians knew the CIA was active, but did not interfere. Despite all the official pressure. We are supposed to be on the same side, after all'.

'Supposed to be?'

'It did not always work out that way'.

'Where is this going, Lisson?'

'Please, Agent Gibbs. Call me Monique'. Another smile, a polite, but no less obvious way of saying that the storyteller would take it at her own pace. After more coffee, she continued.

'The CIA discovered that I was undercover working for the Colombians. I was well placed at the time, and they asked me to do some work for them too. On the side, as it were. The money was good. It seemed easy. I agreed'. Another pause. 'It was a mistake'.

'What were you doing for them?'

Monique looked over at Ziva, still standing against the door.

'Basic intelligence. Names, dates, locations. As I said, it seemed easy'.

'So what went wrong?'

'I slipped up. The Colombians discovered I was moonlighting for the CIA. Then my identity was leaked to the cartel'. Monique's expression was hard, angry, her jaw clenched. 'It had to be the Colombians. But since I am not officially working for the CIA, I can expect no official help. You understand?'

'What makes you so sure?'

Monique snorted. 'Give me some credit, Agent Gibbs'. She paused. 'I did not come straight here from Colombia. Two weeks in the Bahamas can do a girl the world of good'.

'Not interested in your tan, Lisson'.

Monique smirked, and reached for the rucksack that she had left beside the sofa. She pulled out a large brown envelope, and handed it to Gibbs.

'I put my time to good use. This may interest you more'.

Gibbs did not open the envelope, but continued to watch Monique as she continued speaking.

'There were only three people on the Colombian side that knew my real name. One of them was also compromised. He was not as lucky as I was'. She paused. 'One of the others I now know was a cartel man. I believe him to be responsible'.

'If you know, why are we here?'

Monique nodded towards the envelope. 'He also happens to have been involved in drugs smuggling with US navy personnel, using navy ships docked in Cartagena. All the evidence you need, I think, is in there'.

It was the first time that Gibbs's expression had betrayed anything other than impatience. He looked surprised. Monique chuckled.

'You think I am going soft in my old age, Agent Gibbs? At one time…yes, I would have killed him myself. Maybe now I am a little more cautious'.

'What's this gonna cost me?' Gibbs had opened the envelope and was rifling through the contents - bank statements, photographs, itinerary print-outs.

'I want him out of the way. However you choose to do it. But I do not want my name in this. You got the information from an anonymous tip'.

Monique reached for her coffee before turning to Ziva. She suddenly looked worried, and tired. 'And perhaps a place to stay while I sort out some new paperwork? I had other passports. But there is no way of knowing how much he compromised. They are too dangerous to use now'.

Ziva nodded. Her eyes had never left Monique. 'Of course', she replied, softly. 'For as long as you want'.

'I am sorry'. Monique's voice was quiet. 'I did not want to involve you.'

Ziva shook her head, and was about to speak when Gibbs stood up, the envelope in his hand. He pointed at Monique, still sat on the sofa.

'You. Stay'. He turned to Ziva. 'And you, stay with her. Anything happens, anybody contacts you, you call me'.

Ziva nodded, and followed him over to the front door.

'What are you going to do?'

'Get DiNozzo and McGee on this. It all needs to be verified'. He held up the envelope, and glanced over at Monique. 'Sooner she's out of here the better', he muttered.

He turned back to Ziva, his blue eyes intense as he looked at her, his expression serious.

'Mean it, Ziva. Anything….' He paused. 'Call me. Don't go all ninja'.

She could not help but laugh as he opened the door and headed for the stairs. Feeling slightly reckless, she called after him.

'I thought you liked ninja, Gibbs?'

He turned, and she was surprised to see the corners of his mouth creased in a half- smile.

'Only when I'm there to see it, David'.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to everyone for continuing to read! Hope you continue to enjoy...As always, reviews are greatly appreciated :)_

* * *

'OK, Gibbs. Thank you'.

Ziva ended the call on her cell phone, and turned back to the kitchen, where Monique was clearing away the last of the dishes. She had insisted on cooking and somehow, from the meagre contents of Ziva's fridge and cupboards, had managed to rustle up one of the best Thai curries Ziva had had for a long time. Now she turned to Ziva with a questioning look.

'Gibbs?'

Ziva nodded. 'They have verified the information you gave us'. She caught Monique's grimace. 'Has to be done, Monique. And he has not revealed where it came from'.

Monique nodded. 'What are they going to do?'

Ziva shrugged. 'He is a Colombian national, it makes things….awkward. I do not think a decision has been made yet'.

'Or he is not saying'.

Ziva nodded in acknowledgment. That was more likely. Monique sighed and handed Ziva a cup of tea before moving past her into the living room. Ziva followed and settled herself in a corner of the sofa, legs curled underneath her.

'Did you get anywhere with your CIA contact?'

Monique shrugged. 'He said he would see what he could do. I have contacted someone else as well'. She smiled suddenly. 'You can never have too many fake passports'. Her smile disappeared as she sipped her tea. 'But I do not want to be drawn back into working for the CIA in exchange'.

Ziva studied her friend, sat at the other end of the sofa.

'So who do you want to work for, Monique?'

The older woman looked at her, smiling but with a guarded look in her eyes. 'Maybe I want to retire'.

Ziva snorted. 'Right'.

'Why so cynical?' Monique raised her eyebrows and Ziva laughed.

'Because you will never retire, Monique. This is your life'.

'Maybe I am getting tired of this life. Living on the edge all the time'.

Ziva shook her head. 'You will never change, Monique. It is who you are. We are very alike in that respect'.

'Were'.

Ziva looked sharply at her mentor. 'What?'

'We were very alike'. Monique smiled again at the indignant expression on Ziva's face. Her expression was no longer guarded, but open and warm.

'You have changed since being at NCIS. You seem more….settled'.

Ziva laughed. 'I have an apartment. I live in one place for longer than six months. So yes, I guess I am more settled'.

Monique was shaking her head even before Ziva had finished speaking.

'I did not mean that. I meant that you seem more at peace. Happier with yourself'. She paused. 'Ready to maybe….settle down?'

Ziva shrugged. She felt suddenly shy and a bit exposed, and had to remind herself that this was Monique she was talking to. She had never felt uncomfortable talking to her before, but then, it had been such a long time since she had opened up to anyone.

'Maybe'. Her tone was non-committal. Monique waited patiently.

'There was someone', Ziva finally continued. 'It was serious – I thought it was serious. But it did not work out. So settling down – in that sense – is not happening just yet'.

Monique nodded. 'It will, Ziva. I think you want it to. So it will'.

Ziva shrugged again, and smiled at her friend, shifting her position to stretch her legs out.

'Maybe, someday'.

'What about Gibbs?'

The question took Ziva by surprise. Surely she had not made her feelings that obvious?

'What about him?'

Monique laughed. 'This is me you're talking to, Ziva. You are attracted to him. Have you never considered….?'

Ziva shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. There was no point lying to Monique. She was one of the few people who knew Ziva too well. She sighed.

'Yes, I am attracted to him. Yes, I like him. Happy?'

Monique shook her head. She was trying not to smile. 'So why…?'

'Have I not done anything about it?' Ziva finished Monique's question for her. 'Because he is my boss'.

Monique did smile at that. 'That has not stopped you before'.

'He is much older than me'.

'And….?'

'And I very much doubt that he feels the same way'.

Monique's smile grew even broader. 'Oh, he does. Believe me'.

'And then there's rule twelve – what did you say?' Ziva finally dared to look up at Monique, who was now trying not to laugh.

'He is attracted to you. It is obvious, even to me. And what is rule twelve?'

'He has a list of rules'. Ziva was trying to keep her expression neutral, but looking at Monique's infectious smile made it very hard. 'Rule twelve – never date a co-worker'.

Monique nodded. 'Hmmm'.

'So….' Ziva reached over and poked Monique's knee. 'It will never happen. There is no point in thinking about it'.

Monique pretended to think for a moment. 'Never date a co-worker, hmmm?'

Ziva nodded, and Monique narrowed her eyes.

'Does he have a rule against sleeping with a co-worker?'

'Monique!' Indignant as she tried to sound, Ziva couldn't help laughing. There had been times – quite a few of them, actually – when she had wondered that herself.

Still laughing, Monique stood up and headed back to the kitchen, where she poured them both a glass of red wine from the bottle they had opened at dinner. She handed one to Ziva, and sat back down on the sofa, her expression becoming thoughtful as she did so.

'So you are just going to leave it?'

Ziva took a mouthful of wine. 'Yes, Monique. I do not have a choice'.

Monique shook her head.

'You always have a choice, Ziva. You were the one who taught me that. And when it comes to something as important as this, well…..' She shrugged.

Ziva sighed. She could not quite believe she was sitting in her living room, with a woman she thought she would never see again, talking about dating her boss when she had never even admitted to anyone that her feelings for him went beyond professional. She mentally gave herself a shake, and took another mouthful of wine. Maybe it would help.

'Even supposing….' She stopped.

Monique raised her eyebrows. 'Supposing…?"

'Even supposing you are right. He would never break his own rules. While I am working at NCIS, it can never happen'.

'Sometimes rules must be broken, Ziva. Sometimes the rules are wrong. Sometimes…..' Monique paused to take a sip of her wine. 'Sometimes the people that make the rules are wrong'.

Ziva laughed. 'Not Gibbs'.

Monique's face remained serious. 'Ziva, let me be honest. You are the closest thing I have to family. I care about you. I do not want to see you end up like me'.

'Monique, I….'

Monique silenced Ziva's protest by holding up a finger, as if hushing a noisy child.

'When I say that, I mean I do not want you to end up alone. You are young, Ziva. You are beautiful. Do not waste it. Because eventually you will forget what you are fighting for, and then you will have nothing'.

Ziva was almost speechless. She had never heard Monique speak so passionately and so personally before. Some of her shock must have shown in her face, because Monique smiled in an attempt to lighten the tone.

'So take some advice from your surrogate older sister, hmm? If you like him, tell him. Do not leave it until it is too late'.

She abruptly put her wine down on the coffee table, and stood up, stretching. She looked tired again.

'I am going to take a quick shower'.

Ziva nodded, and looked up at Monique, impulsively reaching out her hand. Monique took it and squeezed gently.

'Think about it, yes?'

Ziva nodded again, her brain still too busy trying to process Monique's words to be capable of speech as well. She heard Monique's footsteps head towards the bathroom, heard the door shut and the shower start, but none of it really registered. She took a slow sip of wine, thinking about Monique and – unwilling as she was to admit it – about Gibbs.


	4. Chapter 4

_Am re-uploading this - for some reason it didn't work the first time...so apologies if you've had notification twice. Not my fault! (I hope...)_

_Thank you for such great feedback on the last chapter! Gibbs gets to star in this one, so I hope you enjoy it as much. Keep the reviews coming!_

* * *

Gibbs sat in MTAC, his eyes on the blank screen in front of him, hands wrapped around a take-out coffee. It was zero-six, and he had hardly slept for the past forty eight hours. The darkness of the room, the flickering computer screens and the hushed tones of the analysts talking as they worked were almost hypnotic. He rubbed his eyes, fingers working against the headache that was building, and pulled out his cell phone to check for messages. Nothing. He sighed as he put it back in his pocket. He had wanted Ziva and Monique to move to a safe house, at least until the operation in Colombia was underway. Ziva, of course, had refused. The most he had been able to get her to agree to was a twice-daily call to let him know everything was ok. When she accused him of being over-protective, he knew she was only half joking, and he had not responded simply because he did not know what to say. Over-protective was only the start of what he felt, but he had managed to keep his feelings well buried for seven years. There were occasions, like now, when it took a lot of effort and if he was honest with himself, he was starting to run out of energy.

He did not look round as Leon Vance sat down next to him, but took the proffered cup of fresh coffee with a grunt of thanks. The screen was still blank, and he checked his watch again. Fifteen minutes.

'The team's in place?'

Gibbs nodded, and took a mouthful of the hot coffee. It had been easy for McGee and DiNozzo to verify the information Monique had given them. It had been much harder to convince Vance to let them hand it over to the South Eastern field office in Jacksonville to deal with as a matter of urgency.

'_Drug deals go down all the time, Gibbs. It's Colombia. And this guy's Colombian. Not American'._

'_He's trafficking drugs using our navy. Our sailors are involved'. _

_Vance sighed. 'And you're not going to tell me where all this came from?'_

'_Come on, Leon'. _

'_Okay, okay'. Vance shook his head, and reached for a toothpick. He squinted at it for a few seconds before shrugging and sticking it between his teeth, fixing Gibbs with a shrewd stare as he did so. _

'_Where is Agent David?'_

'_Told you, Leon'. Gibbs was careful to keep his expression neutral. 'Personal time'. _

'_Hmm'. Vance nodded. 'You know, I've heard a quiet rumor that Monique Lisson has disappeared from Colombia. You or Ziva know anything about that?'_

_Gibbs shrugged. He wondered, not for the first time, how the hell Vance got his information. _

_Vance nodded again, slowly. He leaned forward. _

'_Lisson disappears. David takes personal time. A folder of incriminating evidence against a Colombian national appears on my desk'. He paused, his gaze never leaving Gibbs' face. 'Or am I putting two and two together and making five?'_

'_Must be, Leon.'_

_Vance blew out a sigh and leaned back again. 'OK. What did you have in mind?'_

'_Hand it over to the South East field office. It's their jurisdiction. There's a drop due tomorrow morning, should be easy enough to intercept'. _

'_And this guy?' Vance waved a photograph. _

_Gibbs shrugged. 'They can pick him up too. Hold onto him for a while before handing him over to the Colombian authorities'. _

_Vance shook his head. 'Not happy about this, Gibbs. Too much to go wrong'._

'_Isn't there always?'_

Gibbs checked his watch again. They should be online in five. He sighed. Time was dragging this morning. He heard Vance shift beside him.

'I assume you did actually get the go-ahead from the Colombian authorities for this?

Gibbs smirked. 'Course, Leon'. _In a manner of speaking. _He saw no reason to let Vance know that, a couple of months ago, the Chief of Police in Cartagena had been caught on camera, high as a kite and drunk at a private house party. Technically, of course, it was bribery, but what the hell. _Desperate times. _He wondered again why he was doing all this for a woman he barely knew, hardly trusted and didn't even like that much, before the now-familiar quickening of his heartbeat told him why. Fortunately for her, she was one of Ziva's closest friends. He had a gut feeling that somehow, she knew exactly how he felt about Ziva, and he wondered if he should be worried that it didn't bother him.

'Something's not right'. Vance was checking the clock on the wall of MTAC. 'We should have been online by now'.

One of the analysts took off his headset and turned to them. 'We're having a few problems connecting, sir. It's at the Colombian end, not ours. We'll keep trying'.

'You do that'. Vance scowled.

It took another five minutes before the coloured blocks on the screen crackled and broke apart to reveal Bonetti, the NCIS agent in charge at the South Eastern field office. Behind his bulky frame, they could see the port and the US navy ship, and the other two members of Bonetti's team manhandling two sailors towards the port offices. Gibbs shot up out of his chair.

'Update, Bonetti'.

Bonetti wiped the sweat from his forehead before replying.

'Two privates showed up for the drop'. He jerked his head in the direction of the two men still struggling behind him. 'Which was early, by the way. Nobody showed up to meet them. The drugs were left in a bag in the bin over there'.

Gibbs swore.

'I took the liberty of contacting the Colombian police', Bonetti continued. 'Since you were so sure this Colombian guy would show. Seems there was a leak from the police about us being here, and word got back to the cartel'. He paused. 'They didn't take too kindly to their man running his own little operation here on the side, and getting caught'. He held up a photograph. It was grainy, but Gibbs could make out what it was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vance grimace.

'When?'

'Body was discovered yesterday evening. Apparently they were going to inform us today. They've made some arrests'.

Gibbs smirked. 'Right. Thanks. Paperwork can wait til you're back in Jacksonville'.

Bonetti nodded. 'I'll have the report to you asap'.

Gibbs nodded, and drew his hand across his throat, signaling to the analyst sitting to his left to cut the connection. Coloured blocks filled the screen again, and he turned to see Vance staring at him.

'Why do I get the feeling this was what you planned, Agent Gibbs?'

Gibbs shrugged. He couldn't help the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

'Couldn't plan for that, Leon'.

Vance folded his arms. 'You seem remarkably happy considering your main suspect is now dead. Although it makes my life much easier'. He raised his eyebrows and fixed Gibbs with a look that was half severe, and half amused.

'Maybe best all round'.

Vance nodded slowly, and stood up to leave. Gibbs followed him up the stairs to the exit and waited behind him as Vance paused, his hand on the door.

'You wanted a leak'. He looked at Gibbs, his eyes narrowed.

Gibbs smirked again. 'Wanting isn't the same as planning, Leon'.

Vance snorted, and opened the door. 'In that case, God bless the Colombians'.


	5. Chapter 5

_Nearly there! One more chapter after this one, which should be posted later this week. Thank you for continuing to read. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Ziva sank into her sofa and closed her eyes, letting the wine and the music she had put on earlier wash over her. It was late, and she was too tired even to fix herself dinner. Monique had left early that morning – exactly where to, Ziva was not sure. All she had told her was that she was headed to Asia the long way round, via Paris. When Ziva had pointed out that Asia was a big place, Monique had simply nodded and enveloped Ziva in a hug, promising to be in touch with her again as soon as she was there, wherever 'there' was. The CIA contact had supplied her with documents remarkably quickly. Ziva suspected that, despite what she had said the other evening, retiring was not on the agenda just yet, and wondered idly what the CIA was up to in the Far East. She found herself missing Monique already.

She had returned to work that day, aware that no one apart from Gibbs knew that Monique had even been in the country and wanting to say as little as possible about her three days off. DiNozzo's questions, however, had been hard to avoid. She had only been saved when Gibbs had received a call about a dead sailor at Norfolk. Once there, the tasks they had been given kept her and DiNozzo apart for most of the day, and for that she was grateful. She had a feeling Gibbs had realized she did not want the hassle just yet.

Ziva sighed, and stretched out her legs. It had been a long afternoon at the naval base, stretching into the evening, and her feet ached. She reached for her cell phone, but there were no messages. There would not be one from Monique for a while and, she realised, there was no need now for Gibbs to be checking on her. The thought left her feeling slightly empty and alone and wondering again whether the intensity, the spark of something she had seen in his eyes had just been her imagination. Whether the insistence on a regular phone call to check she and Monique were ok was just Gibbs keeping an eye on his agent, or something else. Ziva had never really allowed herself to entertain the idea of 'something else' before Monique had forced her to. She had not dared. And right now she could not figure out whether Monique had been a terrible influence or a blessing in disguise.

Reluctantly, Ziva opened her eyes. She was too tired for this tonight, but knew that if she went to bed she would not sleep. Contemplating her empty glass, she decided she deserved a refill and a bath, and headed to the bathroom to set the taps running with some of her favourite scented bath crème. She slowly stripped off her clothes, enjoying the feeling of shedding the day, and pulled on a silk robe before walking back to the kitchen to top up her glass. She carried it back to the bathroom and, leaving the door open so that she could hear the music still playing in the living room, lowered herself into the steamy water. _Heaven. _When, twenty minutes later, she heard her cell phone ring from the pocket of her cargo pants on the bathroom floor, she groaned out loud. It was so tempting to just ignore it and for a few seconds she tried, but the ringing did not stop. Finally giving up and reaching over the side of the bath, she pulled the pants towards her and grabbed the phone from the pocket. The name on the display set butterflies away in her stomach, and she swore softly. _Gibbs._

* * *

Ziva opened her front door to see Gibbs standing there, holding a paper bag in one hand and a folder in the other. He held up the folder.

'Debrief', he said by way of explanation.

She stood to one side to allow him to enter, and felt his eyes on her as she closed the door behind him. She had barely had time to climb out of her bath, dry herself off and throw the silk robe on again before he had knocked on her door. She knew she could have asked him on the phone to give her half an hour, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

'Should have said if you were busy, Ziva'.

She turned to face him, wondering if his eyes really had darkened slightly or if it was the low light in the living room playing tricks on her.

'I was not busy'.

He held up the paper bag.

'Dinner. Unless you've already eaten?' He smirked as Ziva's stomach answered for her, and handed her the bag. Chinese. She could smell her favourite sesame chicken, and was suddenly starving.

'Thank you'.

Gibbs dropped the folder on the coffee table and followed her through to the kitchen, where he began opening the take out cartons as she collected plates and forks. She handed him a spoon to serve up with.

'You start. I will, uh, go and get changed'.

She walked quickly back to her bedroom, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a powder blue hoodie. Giving her hair a quick towel-dry, she inspected herself in the mirror. Monique's words still echoed in her head. _He likes you._ _You are young. Beautiful. Do not waste it. _She smiled wryly as she thought of what Monique would be saying to her now if she were here, and for the first time allowed herself a tiny glimmer of hope that her friend might be right. _Maybe. _She gave up on her hair and headed back through to the kitchen, where Gibbs handed her a plate of food. His sharp blue eyes took in her top, her damp hair already starting to curl, and there was no mistaking it this time. She felt a stab of satisfaction even as the butterflies in her stomach took off again. _So. Looks like she was right. _She had no idea what to do.

'What has been happening?' Ziva gestured with her fork towards the folder as she walked through and sat down on the sofa. Trying to keep it professional seemed like the best idea for now. At least until the food had soaked up some of the wine she had drunk earlier. Gibbs remained standing by the kitchen door, holding his plate.

'Bonetti's report's in there'. He took another mouthful, chewed slowly, swallowed. 'Police think they've picked up most of the cartel members. It was small. Badly organised'.

Ziva nodded, flicking through the contents of the folder while she ate. She was grateful for a distraction.

'Probably how Monique was able to infiltrate them so easily'. She stared dispassionately at the copy of the photograph that Gibbs and Vance had been shown in MTAC before starting to read Bonetti's report. He had been thorough. She finished reading, and looked up at Gibbs.

'So I can tell Monique? If I hear from her?'

He nodded. 'Don't see why not. Her information was vital'.

'I never properly thanked you, Gibbs. For doing this. I know it was not strictly….by the book'.

'No need'. She tried to decipher his expression, but he turned abruptly and walked into the kitchen, carrying his empty plate over to the sink.

Ziva closed the folder and put it to one side. Distraction over. Her butterflies returned and, just for something to do, she stood up and carried her own empty plate back to the kitchen.

'Something to drink?'

Gibbs shrugged. 'Driving. Coffee?'

Ziva nodded, and decided to make herself one as well. She had a feeling she would not be sleeping much tonight anyway. Her mind was going too fast to relax.

'You ok, Ziva?'

She turned to see Gibbs leaning against the door again, looking at her with a slightly amused, slightly concerned expression on his face. _Damn. _She forced a smile.

'I am fine, Gibbs. Why do you ask?'

He shrugged again. 'You seem quiet. Distracted'.

Ziva shook her head. 'I am fine', she repeated. _A lie. _She finished stacking up the empty cartons for the bin, and paused. 'I am just missing Monique'. That, at least, was true. Gibbs nodded.

'You've known her a long time'. It wasn't a question, but Ziva nodded, smiling.

'She is like family to me'. She opened the cupboard to get out the coffee, and measured some into the pot. 'It was good to see her again. Phone and email are not the same as talking face to face. And I was worried. Monique does not usually ask for help'.

She reached up to put the coffee away, and as she closed the cupboard door she became aware of Gibbs standing close behind her. She prayed that he could not hear her heart thumping in her chest.

'You talk about much else?'

She could feel the warmth from his body, and fought the instinct to lean back against him.

'Just catching up, mostly. Why do you ask?'

'Had a feeling she was keeping something back, that's all'.

Ziva couldn't help laughing. 'Monique always does'. She pulled two mugs towards her from beside the sink and poured the coffee, keeping hers strong and black too. She turned around and handed one to Gibbs, and a feeling of recklessness came over her. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was Monique's influence, or maybe a combination of the two, but suddenly she had no energy left for pretending. And she was damned if a man was going to make her feel this nervous for no good reason.

'Actually….' She paused to take a sip of her coffee and, feeling his eyes on her, forced herself to look up and meet his gaze. 'We talked about you'.

His expression did not change, but he moved ever so slightly closer.

'Good or bad?'

'Both'. She smiled as he raised his eyebrows, and held his gaze as she took another sip of coffee.

'Anything specific?' His tone was teasing, but she knew he noticed when she took a deep breath.

'Me. And you. My….feelings…for you. To be specific'. She was surprised at how calm she sounded, when she felt anything but. She felt Gibbs move closer until they were almost touching. When she risked a look at his face, his eyes were dark, his expression intense.

'What feelings are they, Ziva?'

She turned to put her coffee mug down on the kitchen counter, her hands shaking. Suddenly the music from the living room seemed too loud, the atmosphere in the kitchen too oppressive. She tried to move, to go and turn the music down, or off, but Gibbs stopped her with a hand on her arm.

'Not so fast'.

'Gibbs, I….' She broke off, resting her hands against the counter behind her. She took another deep breath.

'I know you have rules, Gibbs. I know all the reasons I should not be….I should not like you the way I do, but I am…..' She paused.

'Tired of pretending?' Gibbs's hand moved up to her hair, brushing her neck and almost making her gasp out loud.

'You have any idea what you do to me, Ziva?'

Ziva's breath caught in her throat. His voice was quiet, but somehow dangerous. Monique had missed something when she had said it was a 'good looking' voice. 'Devastating' would be more accurate. As she turned her head to meet his gaze, she felt his lips brush hers before he pulled away slightly.

'Did you mean to do that?' The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. He smiled, the first time she had seen him really smile for a long time.

'Umm-hmm. Meant to do it a long time ago'.

She almost screamed with frustration, and his smile broadened at the look on her face. He held a finger up against her unspoken question.

'Same reasons as you'. He paused, his eyes beginning to tease her. 'Thought you might shoot me if I tried it'.

Before Ziva could reply, his lips had claimed hers in a searing, deep kiss that left her in no doubt about his intentions. When they finally broke apart, her heart was racing.

'I take it you are not still worried?'

He smiled again.

'I'll take my chances'.


	6. Chapter 6

_The final chapter! Sorry to those of you who were hoping for a change of rating - it didn't quite happen here (I know, I know, and on Valentine's Day!). This is more sweet than sizzle, but hope you enjoy anyway!_

* * *

Ziva lay on her back, the bed covers pushed down to her stomach, arms sprawled above her head on the pillows. She knew she would not get back to sleep. It was four in the morning, and she wondered for one crazy moment whether to just get up and go for a run, but quickly decided it was too early even for her. She felt wide awake, even though it had only been two hours since she had come to bed. A little shiver of pleasure ran through her as she recalled the reason for the late night, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. If she was not going running, at least she could check and see whether or not it had all been a dream.

She took care not to make a sound as she padded through to the living room in her pyjamas, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. She paused at the door, and a small smile crept over her face at the sight of Gibbs stretched out on her sofa. He looked real enough, but still she wondered whether it was possible to be awake and dreaming at the same time. She looked over towards the kitchen where they had spent what seemed like hours kissing, and she closed her eyes against the heat of the memory. They had been passionate, intimate, exploring kisses that she did not want to end, even though they aroused her more than she had thought possible and she could tell they did him, too. When he had finally pulled back to look at her she had asked him to stay, and had felt a familiar weight of disappointment in her stomach when he had hesitated. She had not been able to hide it, and he had smiled, shaking his head at the look on her face.

'_Not what you think, Ziver'. He sighed, and ran his fingers through her hair, cupping her face in his hands and forcing her to look up at him. _

'_Then what?'_

'_Don't want to mess this up', he admitted quietly. 'You mean too much. Don't want to rush into something you might regret'. _

She had not heard what he said after that. Only those four words kept replaying in her mind, over and over. _You mean too much. _She had never thought she would hear anyone say something like that to her. Hearing Gibbs say it had been almost too much to take in.

A sound from the sofa brought her back to the present, and her eyes snapped open as Gibbs sat up and switched on the lamp. He looked at her for a moment, neither of them speaking, and then he stood up and walked over to her.

'I woke up'.

He smiled at her statement of the obvious, and rested his hands gently on her hips.

'I can see that'.

She closed her eyes again at his touch, her skin tingling as his fingers slipped underneath the bottom of her top. His lips found hers again in a warm, lingering kiss before he pulled back and smiled.

'Coffee?'

She returned his smile and nodded.

'I am sorry I woke you'.

'You didn't', he replied, heading for the kitchen. 'Never went to sleep'.

She sat down on the sofa and pulled the blanket around her. It smelled of him already, and she pressed the soft wool to her face, inhaling deeply. Despite his reservations, he had not wanted to go, and it had actually been Ziva that suggested the compromise. It had taken all of her willpower to leave him there and head to bed alone, but now part of her was glad she had. They had both had a lot to take in. And somehow, in the small hours of the morning, coffee and a blanket was special enough.

'Think you have a message'. His voice was quiet as he leaned against the kitchen door and nodded towards her phone, its tiny red light blinking on the coffee table. She looked up at him as she reached across for it, already knowing what she would see. The half-smile that she realised she had loved for so long was creeping across his face, his blue eyes tender and warm as he watched her. _That look is for me. _She suddenly felt intensely happy, and couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face and settled there, even as he turned away to finish making the coffee.

The message was from a number that she did not recognise, but she had guessed who had sent it. Her suspicions were confirmed when she opened it. It consisted of just one word.

'_So?'_

Ziva pressed the 'reply' key, and then hesitated, wondering what to say. She knew that, without Monique, she probably would not be sat here now, waiting for Gibbs to bring her coffee. She thought back over all that Monique had said. _He likes you. Sometimes the rules are wrong. Do not leave it until it is too late. _Almost exactly the same as Gibbs's words when she had turned back to him just before heading to bed, and finally asked the question that was bothering her most. _What about the rules?_ He had looked at her for a long moment before replying.

'_Sometimes you're wrong, Ziva'._

She looked at the message again, and remembered Monique's parting words. _'Trust me, Ziva. You two are perfect'. _

The message Ziva finally sent back was short and to the point, but she knew it would make Monique smile. She put the phone back on the table, and wandered through to the kitchen to see Gibbs pouring the coffee. He started to hand her a steaming mug, then stopped and placed it on the kitchen counter instead. Ziva raised her eyebrows as he came closer to her.

'Think I might have changed my mind'.

'About coffee?'

He nodded, and took her face in his hands.

'This seems like a better idea'.

As she wrapped her arms around his waist and sank into his kiss, Ziva had to admit he was right.

* * *

It was early evening in Singapore when Monique heard her phone vibrate on the table. She walked away from the window, where she had been standing looking down on the crowds and hustle of the street below, and picked it up. She was awaiting instructions. The message was brief, with no name, but it was not what she was expecting. She smiled as she read it and realised who it was from, thinking back to their final conversation.

'_You two are perfect, Ziva. Trust me'. _

'_We will see, Monique. Maybe'. _

The message read simply '_You were right'. _


End file.
